


Hot Chocolate With Cinnamon

by Sque3k



Series: Tubbo and Tommy [Short Stories] [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Best Friends, Dream SMP Ensemble Angst, Gen, Gremlins Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Hot Chocolate, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Niki | Nihachu, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Minecraft, Nightmares, Ok bye, Post-TommyInnit's Exile (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Soft TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Video: TOMMYINNIT IS DEAD - CRAB RAVE - [DREAM SMP], he is not dead in this fic, no beta we die like Tubbo at the festival, no beta we die like men, no beta we die like tommyinnit, no beta we die like wilbur soot, oh right tommy is canonically dead, still crying over the festival, still going on about the festival, this is old, this was written before tommy's exile ok, tubbo is alive after the festival wow, you cant stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29839548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sque3k/pseuds/Sque3k
Summary: !!THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DREAM SMP FESTIVAL!!Tubbo and Tommy hurt/comfort, and it's f l u f fStuff that's in here: panic attack, PTSD, a nightmare about major character death (not real)
Relationships: Tommyinnit & Tubbo
Series: Tubbo and Tommy [Short Stories] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048330
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Hot Chocolate With Cinnamon

I shoot up from my pillow in a flash, vision blurred by tears, my breathing much too fast to be healthy. 

My eyes dart around the room wildly, searching for I don't even know what. All I know is that I'm in a bed, and there's something very, very wrong. Then it all comes rushing back.

It's in slow motion.

I watch him lift the bow.

I watch him aim it.

I watch him shoot.

And I watch my best friend explode in a shower of sparks. 

Over. And over. Again.

"TUBBO!" I yell, frantically trying to figure out what to do. All sense of reason seems to have left me.

There's something there. In front of me. Blocking my way from somewhere I need to get to. All I know is that I have to do something. It's making noise, but I ignore it and try to shove my way past it with shaky hands. The solid thing stays put, and now there's something on my shoulders keeping me in place. I hear a sound, but I'm not really sure where it came from. It's a little clearer now, though. I try to focus, but it's really hard with all the whizzing thoughts in my brain. It feels like a million alarms are going off in my head at once. 

"Tommy!" I finally make out, and my vision focuses somewhat as the word grounds me. "Tommy, focus on me, ok? Breathe when I breathe." I hear an inhale, and try to copy, but I choke and gasp on my tears. "Sh sh sh.." I hear. "Tubbo…" I croak out, voice extremely strained. I have to get to him. I have to save him. "Yes. Yes, I'm here."

"Tubbo." I say again, trying to push past the person in front of me, but my movements are too weak to be of any use. "Have to save…" I forget what I'm saying as I'm saying it, so I don't continue. 

"Tommy." I hear again. "Look at me." Two hands on my face, gently turning my head. My eyes meet a pair of ocean blue ones, and I can make out his brown hair, which is messy and matted from sleep. "Focus on me. Breathe when I breathe. You can do it." He breathes in. I breathe in. He breathes out. I breathe out. 

He keeps looking at me with a concern-filled stare. I can finally make him out. Tubbo. He's here. He's ok. "I'm ok." He says, as if he read my mind. "I'm here with you. I'm alive." 

I'm enveloped in a warm hug, and I feel a hand start to gently stroke my blonde hair. I hug him back tightly, burying my face in his shoulder and breathing slowly and deeply. 

I'm sitting on my bed, legs dangling off. I'm pretty sure I was attempting to go somewhere to try and save Tubbo in my blind panic, so that explains why I look like I'm about to jump off and make a run for it. My best friend is standing, still hugging me. With me sitting down, we're about the same height. 

A small wave of guilt washes over me. I woke him up again. I've been doing it a lot since we discovered it wasn't any good for either of us to sleep by ourselves anymore. But he doesn't wake me. Just gets down from the top bunk and gets in the bottom one with me if he has a nightmare. And here I am, screaming my bloody head off in the middle of the night, taking ages to come to my senses. 

"I'm sorry.." I whisper, sniffling. The hand stroking my hair stops, then resumes a second after. "Tommy." Tubbo says sternly, "this isn't your fault." He retracts his arms, then plants a small kiss on my forehead. "I'm going to be right back. I promise. Give me two minutes. If I'm not back by then, you run out and you find me, ok? But I will be. I swear." I'm about to argue, but the door's already swinging shut. 

I start counting the seconds in my head. One, Mississippi, two, Mississippi, three, Mississippi… 

Tubbo and I have been practically inseparable since the festival. But really, can you blame us? My best friend was literally almost murdered in cold blood, right in front of me by someone I trusted.

Twenty, Mississippi, twenty one, Mississippi…

After the boy recovered, I stopped sitting by him and keeping him company 24/7. I stopped sleeping in the chair right next to his bed, and went back to my room. Yet on the first night alone, I woke up to him poking my arm, clutching a stuffed bee to his chest. 

"Tommy, I…" he sniffed. "I had a nightmare. This seems so childish and dumb, Tommy, I'm sorry, I'll go-" I stopped him by grabbing his sleeve, and pulled him over, scooching over to the wall to make space on the mattress. My best friend hesitantly lay down facing me, and I quickly embraced him, letting him hide his face in my shoulder. "What was it about?" I asked. "It was- it-" Tubbo stuttered, his breathing speeding up. "Ok." I rubbed his back soothingly. "It's ok."

Forty, Mississippi, forty one, Mississippi, forty two Mississippi…

The next night, I came to him. Tears pouring from my eyes, breathing uneven and fast. I stumbled blindly in the direction of his house, because that's where my feet carried me while my mind was going haywire. And boy was I lucky they did. Tubbo was able to calm me down and snap me to my senses. He quietly mumbled reassurances, just like I had done for him the night before. I woke up the next day wrapped in my best friend's blanket, hugging his bee plushie, a note saying that he was ok and just getting breakfast held down by a small stone on the bedside table.

Eighty, Mississippi, eighty one, Mississippi…

After that, we decided that I should sleep in the bottom of his bunk bed. And it worked well. We didn't have to blindly stumble through the cold and dark of night to get to each other. He could simply climb down a ladder, and be right there with me. I could always climb up, but my nightmares usually resulted in me losing all sense of sanity, so that might not be a great idea. 

One hundred, Mississippi, one hundred and one, Mississippi…

Wilbur actually told me that I ran into both him and Niki on my way to Tubbo the second night. Wilbur was up late reading, and Niki was woken up by my shouting. They both informed me, though, that anything they did went unnoticed in my eyes. Only when I saw Tubbo did I start calming down. Niki was actually the one to suggest we sleep in the same room, and Wilbur backed her up 100%. Eret even fixed a loose board in the bottom bunk so it would be safer for me to sleep in. 

One hundred and ten…

The two minutes are almost up, and I'm sitting up to get ready to leap out of bed as soon as I hit one hundred and twenty. As I reach one hundred and nineteen, though, the door creaks open, and Tubbo enters the room, carrying a small object. "Heh, just on time!" He says quietly, because it's night time and normal people are sleeping. "Sorry if you were worried." He's slightly out of breath, and I feel bad for making him hurry back like this. "Tubbo," I ask, voice hoarse from crying and suddenly screaming after not using it for a few hours, "why am I like this?" 

My best friend gently sets down the object, which I can now see is a cup, on the bedside table. He reaches a hand towards me, a little hesitant, as if I'm a cowering animal, paranoid of any touch. But then he wipes a tear that had slipped out without my consent with his thumb, caressing the side of my face. I lean into the touch, and look up to see transparent tears also leaving streaks down Tubbo's face. 

"It's because we've been through something no one should ever have to go through, Tommy." He whispers, taking his hand off my face and sitting down next to me on the bed. "But there's nothing wrong with you." Tubbo looks up, tears glistening in the dim moonlight. We just sit in silence for a while, both of our tears eventually stopping as we calm down and convince ourselves that everything is ok. 

"I made this for you, by way." Tubbo suddenly says, reaching over and picking up the cup he had set down earlier and passing it to me. I take it, and the warmth spikes my fingers a little bit, but in a nice way. I look down at it's contents. All I can make out is a dark colour, but that doesn't eliminate many options, so I bring the beverage closer to my face and sniff it. I get a bit of something into my nose and nearly sneeze, lifting my head to get away from the cup, immediately wiping my nose with my wrist. I hear laughing next to me, and turn to see Tubbo with a bright smile on his face, actually, truly laughing for the first time in days. I can't help but crack a smile too, and soon I'm also giggling while he's still wheezing.

"It's hot chocolate," he says with a giggle once we've settled down, "with cinnamon!" I look at the cup again, this time from a distance. "Is it good?" I ask. "Of course!" Tubbo replies enthusiastically, "try it!" I hesitantly lift the cup to my mouth, slowly taking a small sip. The cinnamon tastes nice, like home and like the cinnamon and apple pies Tubbo sometimes bakes. With the hot coco, it actually tastes surprisingly good. "This is nice.." I say with a hint of surprise. "Why are you so surprised about this?" My best friend asks, raising an eyebrow at me. I shrug, and take another sip.

I finish the drink, place the empty mug back on the bedside table and turn to Tubbo. He's acquired his bee plush again, hugging it close, eyes half shut and nose squished into the toy sleepily. I smile softly, reaching out and gently placing my hand on his shoulder to check that he's ok with physical contact at the moment. He doesn't really react, so I loop my hands around him and pull the small brunette down onto the mattress. I pull the blanket up over us and smile. I just realised how tired I was. 

"Thank you." I whisper, and he gives a slight nod, before wiggling closer to me and fully closing his eyes. I look up at the boards underneath the top bunk. They hold the mattress up like Tubbo and I hold each other up, in a way. Without my best friend, I would fall down like that mattress would without the boards. I wouldn't be able to function properly for a while. Without a bed frame, the mattress is still usable, just like I would still be alive, but that's about it. Then someone would make a new one. I would go back up and start functioning properly again. But in a way, it would never be the same. 

Tubbo's breathing slows down and evens out after a few minutes, and I turn my head to look at him and take a break from staring at the wooden boards. A lock of hair falls over his closed eyes, lifting slightly with each of his exhales. I gently tuck it behind his ear, being extremely careful not to disturb him. Then I smile, turn onto my side and shut my eyes, letting the reassuring sound of his breathing lull me to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this lmao. This is pretty dang old, I don't write about the festival anymore lol. Time to write about Tommy dying instead :) Also Ranboo supremacy.


End file.
